


Stay With Me

by Poaxath



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Daddy Kink, Emotional Constipation, Everyone Needs A Hug, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingering, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, He owns a restaurant, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Rey has trauma, Slight Spanking, Smut, Soft Ben, The pain train is leaving the station, Vaginal Sex, choo choo, everyone is a little dumb, lovers to relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-08 21:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17988938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poaxath/pseuds/Poaxath
Summary: Feel free to come say hi on Tumblr: thewayofthesith





	1. Chapter 1

 

* * *

 

    He knows she's gone before he even opens his eyes.

    It's there, in the stillness, the silence accompanied only by the soft breaths he's taking, the way the house settles around him.

    It really shouldn't continue to surprise him like this, but it does. They've been doing this for a while now (six months, actually), and her absence still continues to leave a hollow point in his chest the mornings after she comes over.

    He scans the room from his place in the bed, eyes sweeping over the bookshelves, the table, the spot where, just last night, her bra had been flung over the back of the chair.

    She invites herself over, sweeping him off his feet as she launches herself at him, until the only thing he knows is the feeling of her body under his hands, his mouth, the way he feels so complete when he’s inside her. She’s his drug, his addiction, and he can’t seem to get enough of her.

    He wants more.

    It’s not just the sex, the times she comes around his cock like her life depends on it. It’s not just the way she smells, like a mixture of jasmine and vanilla, and it’s not the way it lingers on his sheets after she’s gone.

    He can’t put his finger on it, really. It’s the way she lights up when he answers the door, her smile bright, even though her eyes darken with the promise of what’s to come. It’s the moments where, after they’re sated and relaxed in each other, how she’ll lay her head on his chest and drift off. It’s the stories she tells him in the hushed darkness of his room, the way she bares a part of herself to him that he just knows no one else gets to see.

    She’s all he can think about. She’s all-consuming, potent, something he’ll never tire of.

    And she isn't here.

    He rolls over, dragging the spare pillow close to pull it into his face. He presses his nose against the soft cotton and inhales deeply.

    There it is.

    The smell that shoots a stab of yearning through his heart and soothes his nerves at the same time. What he wouldn’t give to wake up to her still there with him. To pull her close instead and kiss her while he fucks her lazily in the early morning light.

    He needs to get her out of his head, but he can’t bring himself to. She’s never once asked for their unspoken arrangement to be more, and neither has he.

    Maybe he should. Maybe he should ask her the next time she comes over, if she'd like to make _this_ official, if they'd like to give this an honest go. He'd take her on dates and shower her with affection. He'd give her the world, if she asked.

    He would. He'd give her anything she asked for. He has money, a decent house, has his debt under control. He could provide for her.

    With a sigh, he rolls onto his back and slings his arm over his eyes.

    The words form in the back of his mind, heavy and blaring, scrolling across his closed eyelids like a marquee sign.

    The thought echoes over and over, again cementing themselves deep in his psyche. He's in love with Rey.

    The realization makes so much sense, describes the feeling he gets when he sees her. He wants to take care of her, to protect her and show her the love she deserves. She's beautiful, inside and out, and she deserves the best.

    Letting out a heavy breath, he lifts his arm slightly and looks over to the clock on the nightstand. Might as well get up and start getting ready for work.

    He showers, loathe to wash her scent off of him, but he does. He runs the shampoo through his hair while he thinks, while he lets his mind drift.

    There are things to do at the restaurant; he has to meet with Hux to go over the menu the head chef has planned, and then there are the financial matters he needs to attend to, as well.

    He's proud of his restaurant; he'd bought it a few years ago, when it had just been a rundown building, and poured a whole lot of love and money into restoring it. Now, it was a successful fine-dining establishment, and even though he himself wasn't cooking anything, he took an active interest in learning the menu and practicing preparing the dishes under Hux's strict tutelage. Still, he leaves the cooking to the redhead and focuses on other aspects as well.

    As always, Rey's there, lingering in the back of his mind, subsiding in his subconscious thoughts. What if she decides to come to dinner tonight? It wouldn't be rare, as she frequents probably once a month with friends. He always comes out to say hello during the dinner service, pouring her wine for her party. It usually consists of their mutual friend, Poe, Ben's best friend, and the boyfriend to Rey's best friend. Along with them is Rose, the third part of Finn and Poe's relationship.

    He admires the throuple for being able to make a polyamorous relationship work, but he knows it's not something he could ever do. He just wants one person to dote on, to pledge his love to. Just one, and he'd be the happiest man on Earth.

    As he shuts the water off and reaches out to grab a towel, he wonders if this is all in his head, if his feelings are one-sided. There's a possibility that they aren't, right?

    She keeps coming back, taking up the space in his bed again and again.

    Surely it isn't just for sex. It can't be.

    Maybe it can.

    She's never said anything to hint at more. Never opened herself quite so completely, even though she's given her body to him more times than he can count now. He knows every place that makes her gasp, each spot that makes her writhe in pleasure.

    Even now, he can still taste her on his tongue, and he makes a mental note to brush his teeth before heading out.

    He dresses methodically, donning a simple button-up and a pair of dark dress slacks. He'll change into the more formal attire later, complete with a tie and a sport coat.

    Glancing backwards at his bed one more time before leaving, he frowns softly. He could just text her and ask. He could, but it feels too impersonal to do that. She deserves to at least have the question asked directly. Also because he wants to see her face, wants to read her expression as he does.

    He'll see her again soon. They never seem to stay apart from each other for too long, two stars orbiting around each other before they briefly collide and then part to go their separate ways again.

    He has to get her out of his head. She's so distracting, always a thought away. Everywhere he looks, he's reminded of her. He's had her on nearly every surface of this house, up against the walls, on the countertops, the sofa. Everywhere.

    She's positively stained everything he owns, heart included.

 

* * *

 

    Rey softly closes the front door to her apartment, mindful of the other sleeping tenants, and tiptoes into her bedroom. It’s only once she closes the door and slinks down to her bed that she finally lets out the shuddering breath she's been holding, and with that, the tears. She hates this, she hates leaving him and his warmth and his arms and his smile and all of it. But what choice does she have?

    They've never given whatever this is a name, not once in their half a year together. It's never spoken out loud, there isn’t a lot of preamble or discussion. There's a short exchange of texts asking if he's available and there she flies, into his arms and his bed and any other surface they end up on. She can’t even pinpoint when it got like this, when "just this once" became constant.

    She doesn’t want to complain, but she also can’t stop the tears. She has him, isn't that enough? She has his smile and that look in his eyes and his arms around her and the way he makes her come like it’s his second nature. She shouldn't be so selfish! How could she ask for more? She doesn’t deserve more. Her long list of ex-families told her that she didn't.

    They never loved her and neither could Ben. She just isn't lovable, it's a simple fact. She's something to be used as a means to an end (money from the state, a pair of warm thighs on a cold night) and nothing more. Ben could never be more to her.

    Still, she's allowed to dream, right? She gently tugs his undershirt, the one she swiped off the bedroom floor while he slept so beautifully, from her coat and holds it to her nose. She tries not to ruin his scent with her tears as she attempts to get some sleep before the rest of the house gets up.

    It doesn't come, not really, and she's just lying there for a while with her eyes closed to try and will the pain away. She hates this so much, and as the hours pass with barely any rest, the lighting painting the walls shifts from blackness to dim grey, and finally to soft yellows as the sun rises.

    She hears a knock on her door, soft and almost tentative before Rose's voice comes through.

    “Rey? You okay?”

    Rey sniffles a little, feeling the stiffness in her cheeks from dried tears. She rolls over to look at the door, Ben's shirt still clutched to her chest and bites her lip.

    She's not okay, not by a long shot, and she's willing to bet that Rose knows that. The girl has a gift for that sort of thing, being able to read the room without even trying. Letting out a quiet, resigned sigh, she shakes her head.

    “No, not really. Can you come here a second?”

    The door opens slowly and Rose peers around the corner. She's short, standing at about five feet, her hair that dark color that comes from a line of Asian ancestry. She closes the door behind her as she steps inside, making her way gingerly over to where Rey's still lying on the bed. She settles carefully on the edge, body turned towards her.

    “What's going on?” she asks, her hand twitching like she wants to reach out and pat her friend's back.

    Rey glances down to the shirt she's still clutching, fresh tears threatening to well up again.

    “I hate this.”

    “You hate what?” Rose presses cautiously, following her gaze.

    “Ben.”

    “You hate Ben?” Rose clarifies, one eyebrow lifting in surprise. “I thought you enjoyed going over there to see him, to getting some action?”

    “No, no! I don't hate him. God, no, Rose!” Rey cries, pulling the shirt up to her nose again. “I don't think I could ever hate him. I think…”

    Rose's face softens a bit in understanding, a small, sympathetic smile appearing on her mouth. It reminds Rey of pity.

    “Rey, do you _like_ Ben?” Rose asks, leaning forward to stroke her back lightly.

    Rey's biting her lip so hard now that she's afraid she's about to draw blood. And Rose is just watching her with that expression, the one that says she knows exactly what's going on, but she's waiting for Rey to say it herself.

    Except she can't. She _can't._ Because there's no way Ben feels like that for her. No one feels like that about her, not in that way. The idea is just so foreign to her, and she isn't sure how to even begin processing a concept like that. Not after what she's been told her entire life.

    So she doesn't answer the question, and instead plucks absently at a loose thread on her blanket.

    “Rey, sweetie, you've got to learn to accept that everything you've been told all your life isn't true. You _know_ me, Finn, and Poe love you, and we would do anything for you,” Rose says, her voice swimming with sincerity.

    Rey still isn't sure how to answer, how to voice her fears, her thoughts, and her feelings. The idea of Ben feeling anything towards her other than friends with benefits is so far out there that it seems illogical. For him, this is probably just a way to get off, to get a steady supply of sex to sate his needs.

    She has no idea if he's sleeping with anyone else. They've never talked about being exclusive, about only seeing each other. Still, she knows _she_ isn't interested in fucking anyone else.

    Rose must see that on her face, because she pats Rey's back gently and stands back up.

    “You know, Rey, you could always try talking to him. It might help.”

    “Thanks, Rose,” Rey mumbles. “I'll keep that in mind.”

    Deep down, though, she knows she won't bring it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to come say hi on Tumblr: thewayofthesith


	2. Chapter 2

**Seven Months Ago**

     The restaurant is busy, the gentle murmur of conversation lulling him as he moves between the tables. As the owner, he likes to check the reservations and see who’s attending that evening. If it’s someone he knows, or someone high-profile, he’ll go out of his way to say hello and make sure all of their needs are being met. If there’s no one, he simply makes his rounds, greeting patrons with a professional smile as he asks how everything tastes and makes polite conversation. He’s careful never to linger too long, knowing that to these people, their time is precious, and they may not appreciate someone hovering while they’re trying to enjoy a meal. He knows he wouldn’t.

    He’s standing next to Kaydel, the hostess, as she looks down at the list of seats available for the couple standing before them.

    Kaydel is fantastic at her job, always maintaining a charming demeanor, her blonde hair almost always styled into some sort of bun. Today, it’s in two, up high on her head. Normally, they would have looked somewhat childish, especially in an establishment such as this, but she’s also loosened a few tendrils around her face to make it more appropriate.

    She gives Ben a smile, acknowledging him as she grabs a few menus and brushes by him. She knows exactly what he’s looking for.

    “Table 13,” she smiles, patting his chest as she escorts the couple to another table on the other side of the dining room.

    Instantly, he turns towards the area in question, taking long strides towards the corner by the window where his guests are enjoying themselves.

    He sees Poe there, his boyfriend Finn at his side. Across from them are two women, one of which is short and has hair that reminds him of a raven’s feathers. Beside her, is…

    He swallows.

    Sitting beside the short girl is the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

    Ben’s never really thought of himself to have a type, but as he looks at this girl, with her chestnut colored hair, curled into loose waves that comes down to touch the tops of her shoulders, he thinks he might have one now. Her face is scrunched up in laughter, a perfectly white smile on display as she shakes her head.

    Apparently something is amusing.

    Her skin is golden, glowing from the warm lighting inside and over their table. She looks positively radiant, like someone just scooped her off of the nearest beach. It makes his hands twitch ever so slightly, and he falters in his step.

    Ben Solo was never one to get speechless around women before, and there hasn’t even been one word exchanged between them.

    Clearing his throat to make words come a bit more easily as he steps up beside them, he asks, “How is everything tonight?”

    “Ben! Hey, man, how’s it going?” Poe smiles, pushing himself out of his chair to shake the taller man’s hand.

    Ben returns the smile, dipping his head slightly. It’s a little easier to think, now that his attention is on Poe and not anyone else at the table. Even so, he can see her from the corner of his eye, can see how she’s still smiling, even though she’s motionless as she awaits her own introduction.

    “It’s going well. And you? Long time, no see,” he greets, pulling the man in for a brief hug.

    As they separate, Poe beams, nodding. “It’s been good. Really good, actually. Here, let me go around the table. This here, you already know. Say hi to your boss, Finn.”

    “Hey, Mr. Solo,” Finn smiles, giving him a little wave.

    “I see you’re enjoying your night off, although I may put it in your contract to see that your nights off mean not coming to work anyway,” Ben chuckles.

    Finn was a hard worker, and he’d proven himself time and time again. He’d been the only candidate to stand up to the head chef, Armitage Hux, and not get immediately fired. Ben respected that, especially since Hux needed him. Finn was a fantastic sous chef, always paying close attention to detail, and making sure every single dish was perfect. Even Hux could begrudgingly admit that he was an asset to the kitchen.

    “The food’s just too good,” Finn laughs. “And it’s date night, so we had to do something special.”

    “Ah, I see,” Ben replies, that small smile still lingering on his lips.

    “This little one is Rose, our girlfriend,” Poe continues as he sits back down.

    Carefully, Ben shakes her hand as well, making sure not to knock their drinks over or reach directly across anyone.

    “Hello, Mr. Solo, it’s nice to finally meet you. Poe’s told us several stories about your time together in college,” Rose says.

    Ben cringes slightly, his face reminiscent of an animal in pain as he asks, “Has he now?”

    He and Poe went way back, having gone to the same school together since kindergarten. After they’d gotten their diplomas from high school, they even attended the same university together. Despite them going into different fields, with Ben going into business management, and Poe going into structural engineering, they remained close. They’d shared a dorm together, and even attended several frat parties as well. Ben was pleased to say that that friendship had survived into adulthood, and even though they may not speak to each other as much, whenever they were around one another, it was as if no time at all had ever passed.

    Rose smirks slightly, bringing her glass of water up to her lips. She takes a small sip, nodding to herself. “He’s told us about your escapades together. I have to say--that prank you pulled on Professor Holdo sounds like quite the fiasco.”

    “I don’t think she’s ever forgiven us, either,” Poe adds, glee and mischief in his eyes.

    “I wouldn’t expect her to. You _did_ manage to make her life hell the entire semester. Top that off with what we did and I’m sure we’re still on her shit list,” Ben agrees, grinning down at Poe.

    He doesn’t _really_ want to talk about the past right now. What he really wants is to turn to the beauty next to him, in the chair just to his left and greet her. Apparently Poe can read his intention to do just that, even after all these years.

    “This is Rey. She’s just moved here from England, actually, and she’s staying with us for a bit.”

    Ben can see the precise moment when she’s scanning his body, her lovely hazel eyes traversing him slowly, going from his feet all the way up his chest, lingering over his broad shoulders, to his face. He can see the shy smile on her mouth as she leans forward and daintily extends her hand out to him, seemingly unsure of herself.

    “Hello, Mr. Solo. This is a wonderful place you have here. The appetizers were lovely.”

    Oh god. She has the most elegant sounding accent, and Ben finds himself captivated by her gaze. He steps closer to shake her hand as well, feeling how soft and smooth her skin is. It’s warm, inviting, and he realizes in that moment that he doesn’t want to let go.

    He holds onto her hand for perhaps a few seconds too long before releasing her, and she immediately drops it below the table. Is it just him or does she have the prettiest little blush on her cheeks right now?

    Words are hard again, when all he wants to do is to ask her to come with him so that he can ruck up that little black dress she’s wearing and see if she tastes as good as she looks.

    “Ben, please,” he says instead. He’s actually quite proud of that, of not letting his thoughts come out unfiltered. How crass would that be? Looking around the table again, he repeats himself, not needing to be called by anything formal. He’s just Ben, that’s all. No more, no less.

    Poe’s giving him an odd look, though there’s a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he glances back to Rey.

    “Well, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to see how everything was. Would you like more wine?” Ben continues, gesturing to their empty glasses.

    ‘I’m okay, thank you,” Poe says, and Ben looks to Finn and Rose next, receiving the same response from each of them.

    Rey’s subtle clearing of her throat draws his attention back to her, and she’s playing nervously with the necklace around her neck, plucking it between slender fingers. “I would like some more, please.”

    “Right away,” Ben says, holding her eyes.

     Maybe he’s seeing things, but he could almost swear that her gaze darkens a bit as she looks him over again and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. He double checks the type she’d been drinking and nods, stepping away to retrieve the bottle from the serving station. He could always have a member of the staff refill it for her, but he can admit, even to himself, that he wants to see her again, even if only for another moment.

    With some space between them, he’s able to think just a little more clearly. He’s positive he’s been imagining things; women just didn’t look at him like that. Sure, he’d been with them before, had lost his virginity in an awkward situation that summer between high school and college, but he’s too intimidating for most. He knows his looks are a bit unconventional, that his ears are too big, that his nose is too long, and the amount of freckles and moles on his skin may be off-putting to some. Women like him pretty much from the waist down and that’s just how it is.

    He grabs the bottle and turns to head back to the table, stopping only briefly by the kitchen to inform Hux that the order for table 13 must be absolutely perfect.

    “Every table is _always_ perfect, may I remind you,” the redhead hisses back, his face contorted in indignation.

    Ben just ignores him, knowing that a confrontation with the man isn't worth it right now. Hux is stressed out with getting orders out, and the kitchen is a madhouse during dinner services. Above all else, though, Hux is also the best chef he's ever had. It's so rare for a plate to be sent back, and even if it is, it's more than likely because the customer hadn't specified how they'd wanted something. Hux was basically the Gordon Ramsay of _First Order._

As he approaches their table again, wine bottle in hand, he sees Rey and Poe leaning towards each other over the table. Rey looks panicked from the expression he can see on her profile, and Poe looks...well, like Poe. Smug as shit.

    Rey glances over at him, her eyes widening noticeably, and she instantly drops back to her seat. She turns her eyes downward, as though the hands in her lap are the most interesting things in the world. Maybe they are; he'd certainly like to find out.

    He refills her glass, _not_ looking at the way she's still chewing on those pretty pink lips, lips that he can picture stretched around his cock as she tries to swallow him down. Nope, nope, nope, _nope._ Can't be thinking that, especially _here,_ with no place to hide the boner he's fighting to keep at bay.

    What's _wrong_ with him? He's completely unable to even _look_ at her now without imagining things he could do to her. How has it come to this? It's been... _maybe_ five minutes, honestly.

    His face feels hot, and he prays that his dick doesn't flag itself for PvP even more than it already has.

    Her face is still tilted down at her lap, though as he glances at her while pulling the wine bottle away, he can see her beautiful eyes peeking up at him from under her dark, full lashes.

    Were those fuck me eyes or is he seeing shit?

    If so, what was he actually going to _do_ about it? She was eating dinner, and he didn't even know her. He was crazy. He was fucking insane for thinking she might actually want to--what?--hook up with him?

    “You guys know each other?” Poe asks, tearing Ben's attention back to the man.

    Poe's looking back and forth between them, questions in his eyes as he hides a smirk.

    Honestly, fuck him. Fuck Poe Dameron. Why did he have to _always_ be smirking about something?

    Ben's not truly mad, not really. It's who Poe is, and there's nothing to be done about it. Besides, the anger distracts a little from the question he'd been asked.

    “No, we don't know each other,” he replies. But he'd like to. He'd really, _really_ like to get to know Rey. He'd like to tear that dress off her and get to know her _very_ well.

    Poe's eyebrows lift a little. “That's a shame.”

    Ben frowns, but opts not to comment on that. “I'll let you guys get back to dinner. I just wanted to say hello. Let me know if you need anything.”

    Poe's hand snakes forward, offering one last shake.

     _“Poe!”_ Rey hisses, fury and panic on her face.

    “What? I'm just saying goodbye to my buddy,” he protests, still holding his hand out.

    Ben takes it, frowning softly when he feels something press into his palm. Obviously it's a secret or whatever it is wouldn't have been given to him in such a manner, and as he lets go and drops his own hand to his side, he makes sure to curl his fingers just slightly to keep what feels like a piece of paper safe.

    “Goodnight, everyone,” he says with a dip of his head before stepping back.

    When he's in a safe spot, away from prying eyes of staff and customers, he lifts the paper up for inspection and unfolds it. It's a little hard to read at first in the dark corner he's lurking in (like a creep), but he manages.

    He does a double-take, eyes widening in disbelief as he reads it again and again. What if he's gone blind?

    There, written hastily in pen, is a phone number.

    With Rey's name scrawled above it.

    What the _fuck?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter is bigger than the first two combined. I'm not really sure how it turned into this monster, and I couldn't find anywhere to split it. So enjoy! 
> 
> I'd also like to say thank you to everyone that helped me beta this chapter and caught any mistakes. I love you all. *happy sobbing*

**Present Day**

 

    He stews on the thought of addressing how he feels for a few days. In that time frame, he hasn't heard a peep out of her, just like usual. It's always radio silence until she randomly texts him, asking if she can come over. Sometimes he's the one to message her first, but more often than not, it's her initiating contact. Not because he doesn't want to, of course, but as long as _she's_ the one starting things, it tells him that she's still interested, that she still thinks about him. It makes him feel better, in a way.

    In other ways, it makes it worse. He wants to check on her, to see how she's doing. _What_ she's doing. He can practically see her expression when she reads that casual text--her face contorted in confusion, a nearly tangible question mark appearing over her head at his audacity.

    She'd probably mutter something under her breath about what an assuming asshole he is or something along those lines, daring to think he had any right to know what she does outside of their trysts.

    His hands clutch the steering wheel a bit more tightly until his knuckles turn white.

    He’s stressed out to the max and pissed off from work. First, there had been a mix up on a food shipment, where half of the ingredients required for the most popular dishes hadn’t even been on the truck. That had been a real headache all on its own to sort out, but thankfully Gwen was adept at checking the invoice before anything had been unloaded and she’d caught the error pretty quickly. So while the issue was fixed, they still had to wait on a second delivery to bring the correct ingredients. That by itself had put Hux in a tizzy, and he’d had to change his entire menu for the night.

    So with the redhead in a foul mood, he had been even harder on the kitchen staff. Several people had threatened to quit, and Ben had been forced to send Hux outside to catch a breather. In the meantime, he'd stepped up to help out, letting Finn take over as the one in charge while he donned an apron and set about to aiding where he could.

    Luckily, everyone was competent enough to not need Hux breathing down their necks. That was a small mercy, at least. With dinner service in full swing, it had been tedious to keep up with the orders pouring in, but they'd managed rather well, even during the times Ben made a few mistakes.

    He was amped up, pissed, and exhausted all at the same time, and he knew he needed an outlet. Going to the gym could be an option, but truthfully, he just doesn't feel like it tonight. No, what he wants to do is go home and shower, and then...then what? Maybe sit on his couch and lose himself in some shitty, mindless television show.

    Or, there _is_ a third option. Possibly. Maybe. It really depends on if she's busy or not.

    As soon as he gets home, tosses his keys into the little bowl by the door, and showers, he pulls out his phone.

 

> **Ben, 10:03 PM**
> 
> _What are you doing?_

 

     He stares at it for a long moment as the status of the message goes from sent to delivered, worrying at his lip. What if she thinks he’s being too bold? No, that shouldn’t be it; he’s asked her to come over plenty of times.

    His phone gives a little beep, vibrating against his palm, and he looks down, relief flooding through him to see that she doesn’t seem upset.

 

> **Rey, 10:05 PM**
> 
> _Just got out of the shower. I had to destress after work. You?_

 

     He ponders over his response, knowing that he needs to destress as well, and his idea could perhaps benefit them both.

 

> **Ben, 10:06 PM**
> 
> _I'm going to commit a felony in a minute._

 

     He smirks ever so slightly as he sends it, knowing that it will convey his frustration to a point.

 

> **Rey, 10:06 PM**
> 
> _Jeez, that bad?_
> 
> _What happened?_

 

> **Ben, 10:07 PM**
> 
> _Doesn't matter._
> 
> _Work._

 

     He doesn’t need to trouble her with the details of his work day, as she undoubtedly had her own that she was thinking about.

 

> **Rey, 10:08 PM**
> 
> _What else are friends of your best friend's boyfriend good for?_

 

     That’s it--that’s his in; he can steer the conversation to seeing her without making it seem too needy.

 

> **Ben, 10:08 PM**
> 
> _I can think of a few things._

 

> **Rey, 10:09 PM**
> 
> _Oh? Care to enlighten me?_

 

     God, she’s such a tease.

 

> **Ben, 10:09 PM**
> 
> _I'd rather show you._

 

     It takes another minute or so for the reply to come through, and when it does, his smirk grows wider. Oh, she's in a _mood_ tonight.

 

> **Rey, 10:10 PM**
> 
> _Careful, Mr. Solo. Those words could be taken the wrong way by some dirty-minded girl._

 

     He glances at the time on the microwave, wondering if she's able to make it tonight.

 

> **Ben, 10:11 PM**
> 
> _Can you be here in about half an hour?_

 

> **Rey, 10:11 PM**
> 
> _I guess that depends._

 

> **Ben, 10:11 PM**
> 
> _On?_

 

> **Rey, 10:12 PM**
> 
> _How dressed you'd like me to get, Mr. Solo_

 

     He groans softly, shaking his head while reaching down to subtly adjust his cock.

 

> **Ben, 10:12 PM**
> 
> _Does it really matter? I'll just be ripping it off of you anyway._

 

> **Rey, 10:14 PM**
> 
> _I'll see you in 15_

 

    Setting his phone aside, he goes around the house, tidying up as needed. It's not that he wants to impress her, but the thought of having a pretty girl in his space makes him feel like it should be perfect. As it is, he's already pretty neat, and the only thing he really needs to pick up is the book on the sofa and the coffee mug he'd been drinking from that morning.

    Looking around again and finding nothing else that captures his eye, he lays on the couch, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

    His mind's racing, scenarios of how he tells her about his feelings. In some, she accepts them and even returns them. In others, she gives him a sad little smile and asks if they can just remain friends. The worst case is the one where she disappears completely and he never sees her again. It's that one that he's the most afraid of.

    The knock on the door interrupts him from his thoughts, thankfully, and he looks up from his spot on the sofa. He's been drumming his fingers against the arm for the past five minutes, his body feeling like it's on fire, his chest tight with the burning rage from work. At least he managed a shower as soon as he got home, not that it had helped to relax him at all. No, at this point, there's only one thing that will do that, and she's standing on the other side of that door.

    Rising, he moves over and opens it, prepared to greet her as normal.

    What he sees is...not quite what he was expecting.

    She's standing there, wearing a long black coat that makes him raise an eyebrow. It's the middle of summer--what on Earth is she doing wearing that? She's looking up at him as she leans against the door jam, a devious little smile on her pretty pink lips as she reaches up with slender fingers and begins to unfasten the buttons.

    “Hey there,” she grins, her eyes on him as she slowly unveils herself.

    He's just standing there like a dumbstruck idiot, watching her as she waits on his porch, at a loss for words.

   The golden flesh of her chest peeks out, and it dawns on him that she's not wearing a shirt. Oh god, Rey isn't wearing a shirt, and even though he's seen her without one countless times, just the mere _thought_ that she'd driven over to him like this makes his heart beat a bit more quickly.

    He swallows hard.

    Sucking in a breath when his head starts feeling a bit light, he blinks and scans lower for the briefest of moments. Where her coat cuts off, he can see nothing but more skin, and he feels the space in his pants shrink just a bit. He's willing to bet that she's wearing just as little, or nothing.

    Her eyes darken a bit more as she pulls the coat apart completely, and underneath it is one of the most beautiful sights he’s ever seen. His hands clench at his sides, his nails biting into his palms to avoid just grabbing her like he wants to.

    She’s wearing a matching set of light blue lace, barely enough to cover anything, and his mouth waters just a bit. He just wants to tear it off of her and kiss every part of her, to worship her as she's due. And yeah, he really wants to fuck her, too.

    “Hey,” he breathes back, moving out of the way to let her in.

    With the door shut behind her, she tilts her head to the side as she considers him. Her lips are pursed slightly, and god, he just wants to taste her. To see if she’s that same sweetness that he’s come to crave.

    She’s been bold before, but never quite like this. It stuns him, makes him both anxious and twitchy, his cock already coming to life in his pants.

    Her fingers dance up his chest, her eyes flitting up to his as she says, “You seemed like you were pent up with anger, Mr. Solo. I figured I could help with that.”

    The space in his pants has diminished considerably at this point, and he can’t even control himself--he’s staring rather intently at the gentle swells of her breasts, wondering if he’s able to fit the entirety of one in his mouth. As if he doesn't already know the answer to that. No, he can't, but he's damn close.

    “How do you plan to do that?” Is his voice already a bit lower? Fuck, he's a goner.

    Her fingers have reached his collarbone now, and she lifts her hand even further to wrap around the back of his neck. She tugs him down just a little, enough for her to place her perfect little mouth next to his ear.

    “Why don’t you fuck me like you hate me?” Her breath is hot as it washes over him, and he can barely contain the goosebumps that rise along his skin.

    That’s sounding like a really good idea, actually. He’s frustrated from work, and she’s offering to be his outlet. Maybe he should take her up on it; even if the feeling in his chest says she’s more than just some average fuck, she’s willing to let him do this to her, to pour all of his rage into her. And she’s willing to take it.

     “Rey…” he whispers roughly, both a plea and a warning. If she unleashes this beast, he’s not quite sure he’ll be able to stop.

    Already, his hands have somehow snaked beneath her coat to grip her hips. His fingers are digging into the flesh, his hold on her tight.

    “Ben, I’m here to help you,” she promises, her tongue flicking out to trace along the shell of his ear.

    He groans softly, relenting as he tugs her close enough to press her flush against him. He’s grinding against her, trying to relieve the ache in his cock by pressing it into her stomach, and suddenly he has his mouth on her neck, his kisses hot and heavy, intermingled with teeth as he nips his way up and down. When he reaches that spot just behind her ear, she gasps, a breathy little thing, her hands raking through his hair until she finds some at the base of his skull. She tugs it hard, and he moans quietly.

    It uncages that animal inside of him, this pain. It causes him to slide his hands from her hips up to push the coat off her shoulders, forcing her fingers from his hair as he rips the fabric down her arms to pool on the ground.

    She’s there, in nothing but a flimsy bra and panties, looking up at him with glassy eyes, her lips slightly parted. He’s never been this demanding with her before, never quite let her see this side of him. He can see a hint of fear there, but he thinks it’s the fear of not knowing what’s coming next, the anticipation of his next move.

    “Are you sure? Tell me now, because once you tell me, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder, take you to my bed, and fuck you until you’re begging me to stop,” he rasps as he pulls back slightly to watch her face.

    Carefully, she cups his jaw and draws him back down to her until her lips are just barely brushing against his, just the slightest of touches. “I meant it, Ben,” she whispers, teasing her top lip against his. “Fuck me like you hate me. Fuck me until you feel better.”

    And Ben--he makes good on his promise. He bends down, grabbing her roughly around the backs of her thighs and hauls her up until she's dangling over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

    She lets out a little yelp of surprise, and he moves automatically, one large hand coming up to smack hard on her ass as he turns and walks them up the stairs to his bedroom.

    “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” he asks darkly, soothing the red mark with gentle circles before taking a handful of her bottom and squeezing tightly. Her skin is _so_ soft, even as it starts to heat up from the force of his hand, and he wants _more._ “Wanted me to be rough with you? Wanted me to do what I want with you?”

    Her answering sound is a soft moan, her hands braced against his lower back to push herself up slightly. “Yes, god, _yes.”_

They reach the top of the stairs, and it isn't long at all before they’re in his bedroom and he sets her back on her feet in front of him.

    He presses his forehead to hers, the moment oddly tender for how he'd just been. Her eyes are so beautiful, a lovely hazel ringed with amber in middle, and each time he looks into them, he can feel himself falling more deeply. It’s as though he’s sliding down an icy slope with no way to stop himself, nothing to grab onto. Despite his anger, he wants her to know that if she needs him to, he _can_ stop.

    She’s looking up at him, her eyes searching his intently, and the trust in them is so obvious, so openly there that it makes his heart catch again.

    And then he’s back, his hand sliding through the soft hair at the back of her head and using it to drag her down to her knees before him.

    She looks so petite on the floor, or maybe it’s just because he’s so tall, looming over her like a beast. Their size difference is something he’s really come to enjoy. Even if her breasts are small, if her hips aren’t as curvy as they could be, he still wouldn’t change a bit of her. It’s one of his favorite things to cup an entire tit in his palm, to massage and knead it and flick his thumb across her nipple until she’s gasping.

    Immediately, her hands are rising to push his sweats down, and he almost groans at her eagerness. That’s the thing with Rey; she’s always so fucking excited and responsive to whatever they do during their times together.

    The next words out of his mouth surprise even him as he strokes her hair gently. “I want you to suck Daddy’s cock, kitten.”

    He has a moment to wonder if he’s gone too far, if she’s about to stand up, throw her coat back on, and leave in disgust. They’ve done some rather kinky stuff before, though it’s never quite strayed into this territory. He’s a pervert--a dirty pervert for even suggesting it. He just needs to tuck that part of him away, back where it won’t ever see the light of day again, because he can’t handle it if she leaves.

    He opens his mouth to apologize, to revoke his command, when she meets his gaze, her fingers brushing against his waistband.

    “Yes, Daddy.”

    Instantly, his cock is rock hard, and she hasn’t even touched him. That _word_ coming out of her mouth, so quiet, and sweet, and innocent, and completely depraved in this context has him pulsing, his dick wanting attention like no tomorrow.

    “Good girl,” he breathes, giving her a nod to proceed.

    Her fingers are skillful as she slides his pants down around his thighs, and she's looking at his cock like it’s the tastiest thing she’s ever seen. He can see the way she’s shifting slightly on her knees, moving back and forth to subtly rub them together.

    It’s such a fucking turn on that she’s aroused by doing this. _He_ should be the one worshipping _her,_ but he knows her time will come. He’s going to make her come so many times tonight that she forgets her own name.

    She wraps her hand around him, pumping him slowly, eyes flickering between what she’s doing and his face. Her hand is so small, and so wonderful, stroking him up and down, pausing only briefly to swipe her thumb over his slit to collect the precum that’s been building ever since she arrived.

    A shiver travels up his spine, a sound catching in his throat at how delicious it feels when she touches him. Sure, it feels good when he jerks off by himself, but with _Rey,_ it’s otherworldly, a truly one-of-a-kind experience, and maybe it’s because of the way he feels about her, but her touch is magic for him.

    Keeping his eyes open, he watches hungrily as she leans forward, her little pink tongue coming out to barely drag along the tip of him.

    The hand in her hair tightens and he yanks her head back so that she’s looking up at him fully, her pupils blown wide. Her mouth stays parted, tongue just barely peeking behind her lips.

    “What did I say? Did I say to tease Daddy?” His voice is low and dangerous, a warning and a promise all at once.

    There’s a blush creeping up her neck, and she presses her thighs further together. It makes him smirk, knowing that she’s actually _enjoying_ this, just like he is.

    “No, Daddy. I’m sorry,” she says, sounding contrite. “I’ll be a good girl--I promise. I won’t tease you again.”

    He hums in thought, finally deciding to give her another chance. Nodding, he hauls her forward, and like the good girl she is, she opens her mouth to take him readily. Her lips stretch around his cock, a sight he remembers vaguely thinking about the first time they’d met. It’s still just as pretty now, only maybe surpassed by her face when she comes, or how _perfect_ her cunt looks as he bends her in half and watches himself slide into her.

    “Fuck, kitten, you’re so good at this--so good--god, you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he grunts, doing his damndest not to just shove himself down her throat.

    She begins to bob her head up and down his length, using her tongue to explore him with every pass. She slides down as far as she can go, not quite able to take him all the way. What she can’t fit, she pumps in time with her mouth--as she pulls off, her hand comes up before going back down to meet his body.

    Ben is--Ben’s positive he’s about to lose it, to just come in her mouth and ruin it all. It feels so good, too good, and it’s hardly fair that she knows every spot that has him make a noise.

    She’d admitted once that it was super sexy when guys moaned, but only if they were genuine. With that information in mind, he had started opening himself up to being a bit more vocal and letting her know just how much he enjoyed her.

    He slips his hand through her hair again, his fingers curling and digging into her scalp as his head falls back. If he keeps staring at her, he’s definitely going to blow his load before he’s ready.

    It’s when her hand slips down to cup his balls that he realizes he’s in real trouble. She knows exactly what he likes and where he likes it at, and really, he could say the same about himself with her.

     _“Rey--”_

    He has to pull her off of him, forcing her to sit back on her haunches while he struggles to catch his breath.

    He needs to calm down, needs to make this last, because he’s a god damned gentleman and he _always_ makes sure she gets off before he does. Plus, he still wants to fuck her, and even though his refractory period may be pretty short, it’s still there.

    She pouts--actually fucking _pouts--_ up at him, her lower lip sticking out so far that he could easily capture it between his teeth. “What is it, Daddy? Did I do something wrong?”

    He can’t believe she’s still playing this along with him, and he sends up a silent prayer to whatever force or god was kind enough to have her enter his life.

    “No, kitten, not at all. You’ve just got Daddy so worked up right now and I need a moment.” He crouches down in front of her and cups her chin in his hand. Brushing his thumb over her lower lip, he can feel that liquid heat pool at the base of his spine as her little tongue darts out to lick at him.

    “Isn’t that the whole point of this? For you to feel better?” It seems like such an innocent question, the way she tilts her head slightly to the side in his hold.

      Smirking softly, he leans in to press a soft kiss to her forehead despite himself. “No, sweetheart. I’m not just going to take from you and leave you unsatisfied. In fact, Daddy’s feeling hungry, and would really like something to eat.”

    His gaze is predatory as he stands with her, and it only takes a moment for him to throw her onto his bed.

    She lands with a soft little _oof,_  looking so pretty splayed out on his sheets, her mouth parted slightly in shock. Her hair is loose, fanning out against the stark white cotton, and he finds it incredibly distracting. It's the simplest of things, really, but she has no right to be looking _that_ fucking delectable. Or perhaps she does.

    All he knows is that he has to be tasting her _right this second_ or he’s going to die. Pulling his shirt off in a quick move, he drops it to the floor and kicks it aside. She’s watching him in anticipation, her eyes slightly hooded as she stretches her legs out for him.

    Leaning over her, he hooks his thumbs into the sides of her panties and pulls them down easily. How the material didn’t rip from the force of his tugs was honestly pretty spectacular. Whatever brand or company it was should really consider advertising that. It could be a great selling point.

    He drops to his knees at the end of the bed, hooking his arms under her legs to grab her hips and drag her closer. God, she smells so good, a musky mixture of everything that is _her._ It makes his mouth water.

    She wiggles slightly against the bed, lifting her head up to watch him between her legs. He meets her eyes as he curls his hands around her thighs, smirking slowly as he leans down into her.

    She may have been expecting him to start her off slow, with teasing licks with the point of his tongue. She may have been expecting a lot of things, but it’s clear that she wasn’t expecting him to dive into her with little prelude.

    He licks her with the flat of his tongue, long and deep up her glistening center. He hasn’t even bothered to part her folds yet, enjoying doing it without his hands. Her hips buck up in response, a soft little sound coming from her throat.

     _“Oh--”_

He growls into her, moving his hand around to her stomach and pushes her back down against the bed. She whines, a needy little thing as her hands fist into the sheets.

    “B-Ben, oh god, what are you--?”

    He delves deeper, sliding his mouth up to her clit. Sealing his lips over that little nub, he pulls it as far into his mouth as he can and sucks. Almost immediately, her thighs start twitching, little jerks as she gasps.

    He's relentless on her, practically demanding that she come for him. Her body betrays her, telling him exactly how much she wants to do as he commands.

    She grasps his hair and tugs as best she can, her other hand moving up to rub her breast over the bra. Her little moans are music to his ears, and he's glad that she's enjoying it. It spurns him on, making him suck her harder, lick her deeper, makes him feel like a man possessed.

    “Are you going to cum for me, kitten?” he rumbles against her, targeting the tip of his tongue right where it gets the most reaction out of her.

    Her chest arches into the air, and really, it's a shame he's left that bra on; it would be so wonderful to see her nipples straining into the air before him.

    Her voice is breathy, and he can just _tell_ she's fighting to keep her eyes from closing. She alternates between tugging him closer and trying to push him away, and he growls again as he pins her down with more force.

    “Are you going to cum for Daddy, kitten?” he repeats in between motions.

    “Oh god, _yes!_ Yes, daddy--fuck--please let me cum. I need to cum so badly; I wanna soak your face. Please, please, _please!”_

    The poor thing sounds so desperate, but he isn't done with her by a long shot. He strokes her roughly, letting up just enough on her stomach to bring his hand around. He needs to finger her, to get her ready for his cock. She needs to take as much of him as she can, and even though he's unleashing his frustrations on her, he doesn't want to _hurt_ her.

    “What are you waiting for then, kitten? Cum all over your Daddy's face. I need you to.”

    He feels her orgasm against his mouth, the way she tries to undulate her hips against him to get more contact, and all the while, he's riding it with her, lapping gently at her clit to help prolong the sensation. Her nails are digging into his skull, goosebumps are rising along her skin, and he can practically _feel_ the electricity crackling off of her.

     _“Daddy!”_ she moans.

    She may have done as he ordered, but he's nowhere near done with her yet.

    Slipping the tip of his finger past her slick entrance, he hums happily against her to feel just how tight she is. She's always so fucking _tight,_ and it's one of the best feelings in the world to be buried inside of her, even with only a finger.

    He pushes it further into her, twisting it and curling until the pad is dragging heavily over the little spongy patch of skin on her top wall. Her moan this time his deeper, her breathing erratic and shallow, his name falling from her lips with every exhale.

    God, he's so entranced by her, by the way her smooth walls cling to him, wanting him to stay when he has to leave and return again. He pumps that finger a few times before adding a second, scissoring her more open. She has to be ready for him--she _has_ to. And he's going to make sure she is.

    “Oh, I don't think--don't think I can, Ben. It's too--too much,” she gasps, wiggling against his fingers.

    “You _can,_ and you _will.”_ He pushes them hard into her, the heel of his palm slapping into her oversensitive clit. She cries out, eyes flying open at the sudden stimulation again as her body arches.

    Her pants are loud in the room, and he drags his fingers out and then thrusts them back in until she's struggling to form words, her body writhing around under his hold. Once more, he's transfixed by how soft her skin is, and it seems odd to register such a thing in this moment, when he's hammering her with his fingers and pressing so roughly against her g-spot. He takes note of the blush staining her upper body, the way her lips are parted so beautifully, committing it to memory.

    And when he looks down, he can see the way her slick coats his fingers, making them shine lewdly with each withdrawal. It’s mesmerizing, this substance. It lets him know that she’s truly enjoying herself, that she feels pleasure from his actions.

    Her next climax is softer, more gentle, like a rolling wave rather than a tsunami. Her breath leaves her in a gentle rush, her entire body falling slack as she relaxes and lets it take her. He’s there to catch her before it pulls her out to sea, and as he strokes her through this one, he can feel how much more peaceful they both are.

    It’s not enough to completely sate the monster inside of him, but he can give her just a moment to breathe.

    He kisses along the inside of her thigh, a gentle thing as he moves slowly up her body to hover over her.

    His lips trail across her navel, brush along the lacy material covering her breasts, up her sternum and to her throat. Nibbling softly on the tender skin, he can feel her sigh and angle her head so that he has better access. God, she really is such a good girl for him.

    “Jesus, Ben, that was…” Her words are a quiet whisper, and she still sounds half-blissed out.

    “I’m not done with you yet, kitten.” He’s nearly purring as he says it, and he sucks wetly on her pulse before he leans back onto his knees. Her legs are situated between his, and all he can think is that this is going to be perfect.

    Grasping her hips, he flips her over onto her stomach. Her little noise of protest is cute, but she doesn’t say anything to stop him. In fact, she entices him further, the little minx, and wiggles her ass at him.

    Watching the way it moves, he grabs another handful, prepping it before he leaves a heavy smack against her cheek. She jolts a little and shivers, especially when he hauls her lower half up.

    “On your knees.”

    He knows he’s strong, and he hasn’t really thought that she might _like_ him manhandling her like this. She certainly hasn’t protested in any of their trysts together.

    It takes him a moment to unclasp her bra, and then it’s sliding down her arms. She shifts a bit, moving it out of her way until it falls over the side of the bed to land on the floor.

    Taking a long moment to simply admire her, knowing that his cock is still going to be just as hard in a few minutes as it is now, he runs his hands slowly up and down her back, tracing over every single freckle she’s acquired from the sun. They’re adorable, and he wonders if maybe there’s a picture hidden between them. If he looks hard enough, he can almost see it, he thinks.

    As his fingers brush against the nape of her neck, he leans low and kisses the base of her spine as his hand moves back down. He stops just between her shoulder blades and presses down, forcing her upper body into the bed.

    Satisfied with how she's presented to him now, like an offering for the taking, he grips her hips again, his fingers digging into soft skin. He's half afraid that she'll have bruises in the shape of his fingers when he's done with her. The other part of him is pleased at the prospect.

    Her face scrapes across the sheets as she turns her head to the side to peer back at him.

    “Are you okay, Daddy?”

    He tears his eyes from her back to gaze back at her, and for the tiniest moment, his face softens. She’s so perfect in every single way, willing to indulge him in his fantasies.

    “Yeah, I’m okay, kitten. Just looking at this beautiful woman in front of me.”

    He rubs the head of his cock through her folds, getting himself nice and wet to make his entrance that much easier. Even with foreplay, he’s still larger than the average male, his length and girth proportional to his body.

    She makes a small noise, trying to push herself back slightly to get him to slip inside. He swats her hard on the ass again, on the other cheek this time, and as he soothes it, he murmurs, “Good girls know how to wait. Aren’t you my good girl?”

    She nods rapidly. “Yes, daddy. I’m sorry--I just want your cock so badly.”

    “I know, kitten, I know. Daddy’s going to take such good care of you.”

    He wraps a hand around his shaft to guide himself in, and his breath stutters a bit as her body slowly accepts his. Inch by torturous _inch._ He has to fight for each one, and even though she’s soaking wet, she’s still tight. Pulling out slowly, he tries again and manages to get even further this time. Repeating the process until he’s completely sheathed inside of her, he groans lowly.

    “God, you feel so fucking good. So-- _fucking--_ good.”

    “You’re stretching me so much--you’re just so big. I don’t know how you manage to fit,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry.

    “I know--Daddy knows, kitten, but you take every inch of me like you were made to. I’m going to move now--is that okay?”

     _“Please,_ Daddy. Fuck me until you feel better.”

    Pulling out slowly, he pauses and looks down to see him sliding from her body. He can see the way she clings to him, begging him not to go. Who’s he to say no?

    His first thrust is hard, his hips slamming into her ass. She gasps, trying to rise up onto her elbows a bit, but he pushes her back down with something of a snarl, holding her there as he begins to move in earnest. He’s ruthless, brutal, holding her down and fucking into her hard and fast. He lets out all of his rage, lets it pour into his thrusts, and makes her just _take it._

    She's moaning and panting beneath him, and, deciding that he isn’t close enough, that he wants to shift the angle, he leans over her. His hands press into the bed on either side of her head, his hair falling forward to brush against hers.  

    It drives him into a different spot inside of her, so that he’s pounding directly into that spot again. He fills her completely and then presses his hips further into her, asking her to just take that last little bit of him.

    “Whose cunt is this, kitten?” he growls.

    She sounds like she’s hardly even paying attention. “M-mine?” she gasps out.

    That makes him move harder, unyielding, giving her time to rethink that answer.

    “Yours!” she cries.

    “And who does it belong to?”

    “You--god, it belongs to you, Daddy!”

    He leans down to whisper in her ear, pausing his thrusts just long enough to speak. “You know I can take whatever I want, kitten. And I want this cunt. This is _mine_ now, do you understand?” A harsh slap of his hips against hers again.

    She nods shakily, rubbing her face against the sheets some more. “Yes, Daddy.”

    “Good girl,” he murmurs before dropping a kiss to her temple and picking his pace back up.

    Distantly, he’s aware of the headboard smacking into the wall over and over again, but he can’t bring himself to care. If it leaves marks...oh well. He’s focused solely on the feeling of her pussy clenching around him, coaxing him to spill into her before he’s ready. She’s gasping and moaning, and occasionally, he presses his lips down to her shoulder. It helps keep him grounded, keeps him down to earth with her. This is a good, safe way to get his emotions out. It isn’t just the anger--it’s the feeling in his chest when he looks at her but can’t quite put into words. He can’t tell her, not like this, not right now, and possibly not tomorrow, either.

    So instead, he says it without words, slowing down a bit so that he’s not pounding her quite so hard, but not so slowly that it could be considered lovemaking, either. It’s stuck somewhere in the middle, each powerful roll of his hips making her clutch the sheets in her hands more tightly.

    “Ben,” she whispers, her voice wavering slightly. “You feel so fucking good--keep going--just like that.” She makes a very contented noise as he complies, her body jiggling each time their bodies meet again.

    “Are you going to cum again, Rey?” he murmurs back, his voice low and deep with pleasure.

    She nods slowly, thrusting herself back against him as much as she’s able. “Yes--almost there. Just a little bit--”

    He feels the exact moment it hits her, the way her pussy flutters around him and then bears down as tightly as it’s able to. Her eyes roll back in her head, and her whole body begins to quiver, a shiver rolling down her spine. She’s trying to milk him for all he’s worth, and again, who’s he to deny her?

    With one final push, he stills, feeling his cock pulse and throb within her. He gives her everything he has, thick ropes of his spend filling her up, and lazily moving again to push it deeper inside her like the caveman he is. He groans her name, his head dropping down to rest against the back of hers as he tries to catch his breath.

    “Did I hurt you?” he asks quietly, reluctant to move away faster than he has to.

    “Uh uh,” she mumbles, her face looking sleepy.

    As his cock begins to soften, he slips from her body and lays beside her, rolling her onto her side to face him as he drags her closer. “Are you sure?”

    She smiles at that, bringing her hand up to boop him on the nose with her finger. “Of course I’m sure. I’ll probably be a bit sore, but I feel _fantastic_ right now.”

    They don't speak for a while, their breathing slowing back down to normal as they each close their eyes. He trails his fingers lightly up and down her back, a nearly absent-minded gesture with how much he wants to touch her.

    “Stay with me tonight?” he asks softly, almost hesitantly.

    She looks up at him again, searching his face. Scooting herself closer to him, she tucks herself under his chin, her arms trapped between them.

    From somewhere behind him, he grabs the comforter and throws it over them both, relishing the moment with her. Wrapping his own arm over her torso, he presses his nose into her hair and inhales deeply, smelling her sweat and shampoo mingled together.

    He falls into an easy sleep with her there, held close like this, and he’s thankful that she’s redoing the scent on his bed with hers again.

    And when he wakes up in the morning, she’s gone. Just like she usually is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...? I hope it was worth the read!


End file.
